


Bonding Time

by ilsafausts (phoenix_cry)



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_cry/pseuds/ilsafausts
Summary: Benji decides that he wants to get to know Ilsa better and convinces her to have a drink with him. Or two.





	Bonding Time

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday today, so this is my gift to you guys. I appreciate each and every single one of you so much - all of your comments, your leaving kudos on my works, or even just enjoying reading them and then moving on with your day. Thank you! <3

Benji watched as Ilsa took a seat on the couch opposite from his armchair. A little sigh escaped her as the pressure left her feet, and his lips twitched. He wasn’t sure how she did it, walking around in those high-heeled torture devices all day, but he had to admit they looked good on her. His eyes tracked her nimble fingers as they spread out her gun-cleaning supplies on the old and raggedy coffee table between them. His own fingers were busy typing away on his laptop resting on his knees, although he wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing, his mind too busy focusing on the woman in front of him.

His eyes subtly tracked up her toned arms, where they were bared by the simple white t-shirt she was wearing. Her dark blonde hair had been haphazardly thrown into a messy braid, several strands already fighting to escape their binding and tickling her cheeks. Her blue eyes were downcast at the moment and hidden to his gaze, focused on disassembling her gun, but Benji knew that they always mirrored her quick wit and sharp intelligence. 

High cheekbones and a fine jawline that could cut through glass gave her a graceful beauty that reminded Benji of old-time movie stars. Full lips were pursed slightly in concentration, and all of a sudden, he knew why Ethan was so taken with her. 

His best friend had always been Ilsa’s biggest defender, arguing her position and innocence, whenever Benji and the others would be all too willing to cast her in a bad light, rightfully or not. Benji also knew that Ethan had been head over heels for the other British agent basically from the get go. 

Despite her obvious physical beauty, Benji had been trying to understand what else had ensnared Ethan so thoroughly, because he was not the type of person to fall in love easily, no matter how physically beautiful and appealing a woman was. 

At first, Benji had trusted Ilsa as far as he could throw her, assuming she was just trying to get close to Ethan for her own gain. But then she had jumped into the torus after him, risked drowning herself, in order to save his life. The fact that she had overpowered Benji and gotten away with the thumb drive just minutes later, however, had set back his newfound trust way back to zero. 

Eventually they had captured Solomon Lane and completed their mission, with Ilsa’s help, and Benji had watched how Ethan had been reluctant to part from her. They had hugged, longer than had been strictly necessary, he remembered. Their hug had been so intimate that Benji felt like he had been intruding on something hugely private, even if he and the others had waited in a truck several feet away. The two of them hard parted eventually, and Benji had been unable to see the look on Ethan’s face, but Ilsa’s expression had almost knocked the breath out of him. She had been just as unwilling to part from Ethan as he had been, and for the first time, Benji had had the impression that she wasn’t simply just using his friend after all. 

Then, Paris happened and once more, the team had clashed with Ilsa, who had been ordered by her superiors to kill Lane. Again, Benji had doubted her intentions, and again, Ethan had defended her, making him seriously doubt his friend’s mental state for a moment.

Kashmir changed everything for Benji.

While on the search for the second bomb, Ilsa and Benji had split up. Ilsa had found the bomb a while later, but Lane had gotten the drop on her and, like a headless chicken, Benji had rushed to find and help her. So, of course that had ended badly for him, too.

In the end, it had been Ilsa who had saved them both and saved Benji from getting strung up and hanged like a pig, by their mutual nemesis. 

“What, Benji?” her voice suddenly broke his contemplation and he was quite proud of himself for not jumping at the scare. 

His previously glazed over eyes focused again, and he found her watching him, eyebrow raised in question, her hands hovering over the single parts of her gun, lined up neatly on the table. 

He cleared his throat and set aside his laptop, closing the lid in the process.

“I’ve been thinking…”

“So I noticed. You’ve been staring at me blankly for the last six minutes.”

Benji coughed, a bit embarrassed at having been caught staring. What else had he expected, really? Of course she’d notice.

“I’ve been thinking we should go out and get a drink.”

Ilsa’s eyebrow climbed further up her forehead. “And why is that?”

He wanted to blurt out ‘Because my best friend is in love with you and I feel like we should get to know each other better’, but he managed to stop himself. 

Instead he said, “Because we’ve been through quite a bit together, you having saved my life and us having disarmed a bomb together, so I feel like we should get to know each other better. Especially since you’ve decided to stick around and join the IMF.” 

“So getting drunk together is the best thing you can come up with?”

Benji shrugged. “Alcohol does have the helpful side effect of making me more relaxed.”

Ilsa chuckled and leaned back against the couch, still mustering him. “Are you saying I make you nervous, Benji?”

Benji cursed inwardly at her perceptiveness. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He muttered.

Ilsa smile deepened and she looked decidedly like the cat who got the canary. 

“You do know they already call you the Ice Queen, back at headquarters?”

“I do, yes,” she said, sounding unaffected by the moniker. “I decidedly couldn’t care less.

Benji harrumphed. “Can we please just go get a drink and talk?”

“We’re talking right now.”

“You know what I mean,” he whined. “Besides, I am sick and tired of being stuck in this safehouse all day long. We’re in Barcelona! Let’s go and enjoy it!”

Ilsa rolled her eyes, and went back to finish cleaning and reassembling her gun.

Benji sighed in disappointment when she didn’t answer and went to get up.

“Fine,” she suddenly said before he had even moved a muscle. “Let me just finish this first and go clean up.” 

He grinned. “Of course.”

Ten minutes later, they were headed to the door, when Ethan, Luther, and Brandt came down from the attic, where they had set up a table to play cards at. 

“Where are you going?” Brandt asked, looking curious.

“Ilsa and I are gonna get drinks and bond,” Benji stated like it was the most normal occurance.

Their teammate’s eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Really,” Ethan said, a slight hint of incredulity in his voice. 

“Yes, really,” Ilsa agreed, leaning back against the door and crossing her arms over her now blouse-clad stomach. “Apparently, he thinks he needs to get to know me better.” 

Ethan’s lips twitched in a smile as he took her in. He knew she was acting annoyed on Benji’s behalf, because she loved to tease him, but he also knew she appreciated his efforts. 

“Please try to get him back here in one piece and not to drink him under the table?” He asked her, his smile widening. 

“Hey!” Benji protested, and Luther and Brandt chuckled, knowing he was a lightweight.

“I wish I could see this,” Luther muttered and Benji glared at him. 

“How do you even know she’s gonna outdrink me?”

“Because she’s Ilsa,” he said, as if that answered everything. 

If Benji was honest with himself, it essentially did. He grumbled something unintelligible at his friends and then turned towards Ilsa. “Can we just leave these idiots here and go already?”

She smirked and opened the door for him, motioning for him to go ahead. He threw her a look, but she had already turned her attention back to Ethan, sharing a look with him that was speaking volumes. Or at least for them it did, because they always did that thing were they had whole conversations without actually speaking a word out loud. It used to irritate him immensely, now however, he just sighed and tolerated it. 

“Good luck,” he heard Ethan whisper to Ilsa behind him and he rolled his eyes. They were acting like he was about to kidnap her. Benji almost giggled at the thought.  _ Yeah, right. _

They finally stepped out into the comfortably warm evening air and into the hustle and bustle of a busy street in Barcelona. Choosing a direction at random, they started walking, agreeing to just chose the first drinking hole that looked inviting to them. 

Ilsa and Benji didn’t have to walk far, because around five corners later, they spotted a homey looking bar, that didn’t look like it was completely overrun with tourists. 

Ordering their drinks directly at the bar, they then opted for a seat in a relatively quiet corner.

Ilsa didn’t beat around the bush and, as soon as they were seated, bluntly asked, “Alright, out with it. What is this really about, Benji?”

“Geez, you couldn’t even wait for our drinks to arrive? Bloody hell, woman!”

She just raised an eyebrow, patiently waiting for him to answer and not tolerating his attempt to evade her at all. He sighed.

“Ethan is my best friend,” he began, nervously fiddling with a napkin on the table. 

Ilsa nodded. “I know.”

Benji hesitated a moment, unsure if he should share this next secret, or not. “And… well, I think you are aware of the fact that he has… feelings for you.” He dared a glance at her and once again, she simply nodded, her face not giving anything away. Bloody  _ Ice Queen _ , indeed.

The waiter brought their drinks, giving Benji several more seconds to think about his next words. They nodded their thanks at the young man and each took a sip. They’d both chosen scotch, neat, and at the very least, he couldn’t fault her taste in liquors. 

“So, seeing as I am pretty sure you return his feelings and plan to stick around for a while, not to mention the fact that we’re teammates now and need to trust each other, I thought bonding would be a pretty good idea, don’t you?” He took a deep breath once he was done, trying to gauge Ilsa’s reaction.

She looked right at him without saying a word, and he felt like she was staring into his very soul. He had to work hard not to shuffle in his seat. After what felt like hours, but was only a handful of seconds, she reached for her glass and lifted it to clink against his. “Yes Benji, it’s a good idea.” 

His shoulders slumped, finally relaxing, and he uttered a great sigh. For the first time since this idea had taken root in his brain, he felt like he could breathe easy. 

“Cheers, then!” He grinned, and clinked his glass against hers again. 

Ilsa smiled, the expression lighting up her whole face. “Cheers!”

 

* 

 

Hours later, Ethan, Brandt, and Luther were beginning to get worried about their missing friends. It was nearing two in the morning, and they had yet to return from their ‘bonding time’. 

Ethan quietly wondered if Ilsa had just lost patience with their teammate at some point and… but no. Ethan shook his head at his own silliness. 

She wouldn’t. Would she?

He got up from his chair again and began pacing once more, like he had done for almost the last hour.

“Ethan, they’re fine,” Luther tried to soothe his agitated friend, as he watched him pace up and down the small living room. “They can take care of themselves.”

“Well, I don’t know about Ilsa, but have you ever seen Benji stone cold drunk?” Brandt said, sounding way too amused in light of the situation. “He’s probably passed out under the table by now.”

Luther chuckled, and Ethan had just opened his mouth to reply, when they heard voices in the street below. Was that...singing? They all shared a look and headed towards the window facing the street.

Sure enough, there their missing friends were, arm in arm, half-leaning against the lamp post. Singing. Or rather, Benji was singing, rather loudly, while Ilsa was laughing almost hysterically. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Luther whispered, in awe at the spectacle before him. Beside him, Brandt had already brandished his phone and was filming the whole thing. 

Ethan was leaning against the window frame, grinning like a fool. 

“I bet you twenty bucks they won’t make it up the stairs,” Brandt said. 

“I’ll take that bet,” Luther replied. 

“She’ll end up dragging him up the stairs,” Ethan butted in, sounding certain, not once taking his eyes off the spectacle below them. 

Brandt and Luther shared a look, biting back a grin at their friend’s obvious infatuation. 

Eventually, they watched as Ilsa and Benji stumbled across the sidewalk towards the door, Benji still singing, or at least trying to. They heard the front door open downstairs, and their friends trip inside, giggles and curses filtering upstairs in equal measure as they kept bumping into things. 

Their voices grew closer and Benji’s singing stopped. They heard him mumble something. 

“Don’t even try, Benjamin!” They could hear Ilsa chastise their friend, all three of them wincing at her use of his full name. “I am  _ not _ carrying your sorry drunk arse up these stairs!”

Ethan bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. He shared another look with the other two men, a look that clearly said ‘I told you so’. Luther and Brandt just rolled their eyes. 

Benji mumbled something again, and Ilsa sighed heavily. Another moment of silence, then some shuffling and rustling. A grunt. 

“Don’t you dare vomit on me, or I swear you’ll be sorry for the rest of your life,” Ilsa warned, then grunted again as she apparently hefted Benji higher up on her shoulders. The stairs creaked as they continued their way up the stairs, until they stopped in front of the apartment door.

Ethan finally took pity on them, mostly Ilsa, and went to open the door for them. 

As predicted, Ilsa had Benji half-propped up on her back, his arms hanging over her shoulders and his head lolling from side to side on her shoulder. She blinked at him, the sudden light from the living room appearing blindingly bright to her sensitive eyes. 

“Hey,” he greeted drily. “Need some help?”

“Please,” she sighed and swayed forward slightly under the weight. Ethan caught her by the shoulders to stop both her and Benji from tipping over, and shot a look at the other two over his shoulder, silently telling them to stop enjoying the show and help instead. 

“He passed out halfway up the stairs,” Ilsa told them, sighing in relief when Benji’s deadweight got lifted from her shoulders. Luther and Brandt each took one of his arms and half dragged, half carried him to the couch, where they dumped him, none too gently. Benji grunted and turned over in his sleep, reaching out to hug a pillow. 

“How come you’re not drunk?” Brandt asked and turned back to face Ilsa, who was making her way over to a chair, more slowly than usual. 

“I am,” she stated and almost moaned in relief, when Ethan placed a glass of cold water into her hands. She took several greedy gulps, closing her eyes as it soothed her dry throat. 

“I just prefer not to belt out showtunes when I’m drunk, unlike some people.”

Luther wheezed. “That was a sight to behold, for sure.”

Ilsa groaned. “Tell me you did not see that.”

“Oh, but we did,” Brandt gloated, grinning at her widely, neglecting to mention the fact that he now had blackmail material on his phone. Her eyes narrowed, but the usually so intimidating effect was kind of ruined, when her eyes crossed slightly.

“Ugh,” she said, and took another sip of water.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Ethan said, voice soft.

Brandt grinned even wider and Ethan shot him another look, which clearly said to knock it off. He was ignored. 

“Mhh,” Ilsa murmured, and he took the sound as agreement. Bending slightly to help her stand, he grasped her by the shoulders, stabilizing her when she swayed dangerously. 

“I’m impressed it’s only hitting you now,” Luther said, watching them carefully. 

“Had to get the kid back home,” she mumbled and the men laughed softly, touched by her concern for their friend. 

She swayed again and Ethan decided to make short work of their trip to the bedroom. Bending once more, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the other around her legs, and lifted. She squeaked in surprise.

“This will be faster,” he promised.

“Eager to get me into bed, are you?” she muttered, and Ethan heard Brandt and Luther choke slightly behind them.

Ethan huffed in amusement. “Ask me that again when you’re sober, okay?”

“M’kay,” she whispered, her head falling sideways to rest on his shoulders, eyes drooping shut. 

She was asleep before Ethan had carefully deposited her in her bed, pulled off her shoes and coat and wrapped her in her blankets. He went into the bathroom and got another glass of water and some aspirin, and placed both on the small bedside table, within easy reach.

Before he turned off the light, he dropped a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered. 

He hoped she would remember all of this tomorrow - he was dying to tease her and Benji about their, what seemed to be, very successful bonding experience.

 

~fin

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this silly little fic. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and have a great weekend. :)


End file.
